Isabel Canas Novels & Stories

“Adrian… wait for me. I will come back. I will finish what I started. Cecilia will die screaming. Hope will disappear. And you… you will finally be mine.” In the filthy darkness of the cell, surrounded by the snores and whimpers of broken women, Isabel Chen smiled. Her escape was already in motion. And when she got out, the bloodshed would be glorious.

My clothes stuck to my body, my entire frame trembling from the cold. Almost there. I encouraged myself as the house gate finally came into view. I’m Isabella Santos. Just a simple girl from the countryside who somehow caught the attention of the almighty Xavier Gustavo…the heir to Gustavo Group Limited, the wealthiest and most powerful family in California. Or should I say... unlucky? Sigh. Xavier met me at the coffee shop where I worked and confessed his love. It felt like a dream come true. I had always crushed on him, and now, I'm engaged to him.

👀👀👀] EM: [? TESSA: [wait is this a vacation or a drama???] Isabella, of course, is the fastest. ISABELLA: [why am i only hearing about this NOW] ISABELLA: [you get kidnapped in santorini and now you’re flying to LA like a telenovela star] ISABELLA: [DO YOU PLAN ON ALMOST DYING IN EVERY PRETTY CITY IN THE WORLD?] I type while yawning. KR: [official reason: abuelo’s birthday. unofficial reason: watching bretta fight with maternity dresses and mama]

Here, the cypress trees grew thick and the air smelled of damp earth, salt, and secrets. I found a stone bench hidden behind a thick curtain of ivy. I sat down, my knees finally giving way, my head falling into my hands. The "Titan" was gone. I was just Isabella, a woman who had traded her soul for a chance to save a child who hated her very existence.

The year I was born. It was a bank transfer record. A massive sum. Five million dollars transferred from an account in Panama to Gabriel Romano. The sender wasn't a person. It was a tech company. SENDER: MARIPOSA HOLDINGS. MEMO: CARE AND MAINTENANCE - SUBJECT I. Subject I…. if I was not wrong. Here, I stood for Isabella.

I trailed off, briefly wondering if the check would still be safe if I’d left it in my bra instead of moving it to my purse when I boarded the final flight that was bound for New York City. “I’m intimately involved with “The Island,” Anya. I’m one of the main investors, and you wouldn’t believe what a chuckle I got seeing your name on the roster of competitors for the weekend.” His beady eyes focused on me, and he licked his lips in a hungry fashion. “I quite enjoyed your show, though was aggravated to have a lot of the footage missing when the producer forwarded it to me yesterday. I didn’t get to see your deflowering, for example. Tell me what the hunter did to you, and in great detail.” I

Isabella quickly walked over and blocked the main interviewer’s hand from pressing the elevator button. The interviewers, startled by Isabella's sudden approach, looked at her with surprise. An assistant, clearly annoyed, called out, “What do you think you’re doing? Security, security...” Ignoring the assistant, Isabella calmly addressed the main interviewer. “Excuse me, sir. I’m Isabella Rivera, here for the interview. I’ve been waiting all day and haven’t been called. I’d like to know what went wrong.” The stout woman saw this and was about to mock her, but Thalia stopped her.

Caleb answered instead. "Listen Caleb, we aren't going ahead with this, your replies are killing me and I'm here because I care about our relationship, your insecurities and lack of faith in me, is killing it, so is there anything i need to know? Most especially about Isabel?" I questioned again. I knew what he was doing, he was stalling and making us go in a circle but I had no time for it, I just wanted to know the truth and get over it. "Isabel is my ex-girlfriend, she was the head of the soccer team for girls at college and she was quite hot..." Caleb started.

Others looked outright panicked. Ximena stood at the head of the long table, her chin lifted, her emerald blouse crisp beneath a tailored blazer. She was elegant under pressure. Across from her stood **Isabela Reyes**, cool and unshaken, dressed in muted navy. Her hands rested lightly on the folder in front of her. Camila’s locket shimmered around her neck. “Thank you all for your time,” Isabela began, her voice smooth. “I come before you not as an enemy—but as blood.”